


Unpresentable

by lwielaura (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Drunken Kissing, Englisch is not my first language, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 10:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2022528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lwielaura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock are invited to a Halloween-Costume-Party. Sherlock isn't pleased and John is getting drunk</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpresentable

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Gesellschaftstauglich (JOHNLOCK Eintopf)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/64104) by Lwielaura. 



„No way.“  
„Absolutely. Do not even try to discuss it. I’m sure that interacting with other human beings won’t kill you.”  
“You’re here. It’s enough for me.”  
John sighted enervated as the discussion rolled up once again. They talked about this more than once and he began to feel tired about that. He wouldn’t allow Sherlock to stay home like every time.  
“You don’t seem to understand that it’s a bloody costume party.”  
“For the hundreds time, you treated Molly unfair as much as you used her and she at least deserves that you attend to her Halloween party. Also Lestrade and many others will be there as well.”, John tried to persuade Sherlock wearily.  
“But Jaaaawn, I don’t want to talk to anyone but you. Can’t we stay at home and do things I would regard as much more meaningful as struggling with that bunch of idiots?”  
“Don’t you even try it that way. We’ll go and that’s it. And if you want to do those ‘meaningful things’ with me ever again you better behave.”  
Hereupon Sherlock started to sulk, but this silence mend that John would have won. Complacently he smiled.  
“I’m not even having a costume.”, the Consulting Detective started a last try finding a way out. But it wouldn’t be John if he hadn’t had a solution for that either, so he nipped at his tea, still smiling.  
“Oh, don’t mind that. I managed that already. It’s on your bed.”  
Sherlock opened his mouth determined, shut it again, before he jumped up and ran to their common bedroom. John waited amused for a reaction from his boyfriend, adding: “I don’t want to show up late so you better dress up.”, as Sherlock’s voice angry and appalled sounded from next door: “DAMN MYCROFT!”

“We can still go home. I don’t want to go inside. I look ridiculous. John, I look absolutely ridiculous. And you do, too. I don’t want to.”, Sherlock spluttered quietly as they approached the flat. They already saw the illuminated windows of the first floor and silhouettes, moving and dancing coltish.  
The whole thing was a massive waste of time and additionally he had not the slightest interest to take part in having boring conversations with boring people. John was interesting. That was definitely enough. He stared at him angrily but couldn’t help himself giggling: “It suits you.” Sherlock pulled a face.  
Suddenly he felt the warm hand of John in his own and he aspirated a kiss to his lips, ending, before he could agree to it. He couldn’t suppress a disappointed sight.  
“Just… behave.”, and he pulled him to the wooden door as he knocked and he heard steps approaching. In the next moment Molly had pulled the door open, dressed up as Frankenstein’s Bride. Her shy glance scampered looking at them and she couldn’t hold back a quite girlish snicker.  
“Hey, nice to see you.”, she mumbled without looking at them directly, hugging John.  
The illogical and torrid feeling of jealousy choked Sherlock and although he was absolutely aware of the fact that John loved him, he couldn’t deny that Molly way a rather beautiful women, even if he had never seen her this way, and in the past John never was able to resist such.  
He cleared his throat, thrusting his coat into her hands and entering the room arrogantly as usual.  
Most of the people he didn’t know, although he knew the most important facts about them within a few seconds. Further he looked for a seat. Indeed, there was a free spot and quickly he sat down, ignoring the disgusted-looking women who had the same plan.  
“Sherlock.”, he heard next to him. For god’s sake, he found himself sitting next to Lestrade as a cheap version of Jack the Ripper.  
He seemed to be amused. “Well, apparently John convinced you to appear… costumed.”  
Discontented Sherlock nodded. In between everyone at Scotland Yard’s knew that they were a couple, even though they tried to keep it secretly.  
“Oh, come on. It’s a party. Just enjoy yourself once. Maybe Molly’s having some rum.”  
Sherlock rolled his eyes on the occasion of the joke referring to his pirate costume.  
“At least John has some fun.”  
Indeed, the Doctor joined a larger group of women, a beer in his hand and chatting happily. The fact that they surely didn’t know that he was taken and that two of them wore their wedding rings more decorative than obligatory made his mood hitting rock bottom. He wouldn’t move from his spot this evening. 

The hours passed slowly and he spent them mainly by deducing foreign people and avoiding John’s angry looks.  
Eventually the crowd dissolved more and more and quarter past three John joined him and Lestrade.  
Or more precisely he fall down to the free seat next to Sherlock just to lean onto his shoulder.  
He smelled alcohol.  
“I think we shuld go, Sherly.”, John prattled exhausted.  
“Exceptionally I agree with you. I think you had en-“ but he was interrupted by one of the women from the beginning of the evening, wearing a much to short and tight nurse-dress, fluttering her eyelashes.  
“I was wondering whether you could prescribe me your phone number, Doctor?”, she asked seductively, arranging the collar of John’s lab coat. He tried to get up and answer but before he could do anything, Sherlock put his arm around his shoulders and kissed him quickly, staring back to the blonde, who looked both disappointed and embarrassed. John blushed a little, could be both the situation and the alcohol.  
“I think you can stop your efforts, Miss. He is absolutely not interested in you.”, Sherlock gnarled with a slightly dangerous undertone. The woman snorted and pranced, leaving them behind.  
Lestrade laughed: “Blimey, Sherlock. Never knew that you would turn into a bloody diva about your John.”  
The first short smile of this evening lighted up his face as he looked down at his boyfriend, who fell almost asleep at his shoulder, mumbling and pulling at his sleeve.  
“Well, I assume it’s time to go.”, he said and the DI nodded.  
“See you later.”  
Quickly he grabbed their coats, tried John to get up, putting his arm around his haunch, pulling him outside into the cold autumn-night. Every step was hard to make and required a huge amount of strength because John constantly stumbled and barged.  
“Would you mind concentrating?”, he demanded after a few minutes.  
“I’m abs’lutely conentruuuhm – awake.”, he said finally.  
“Of course you are.”  
“Sherly, I –“  
“Oh, for god’s sake, you can’t be drunk enough to justify that nickname.”  
“I looove you.”  
“Love you too. Let’s see how long that’s going to last.”  
They continued their way, always looking for a taxi but it was Halloween and the streets were unusually crowded anyway.  
Suddenly, Sherlock thought John would fall, he was pulled down at his coat collar and he felt warm lips kissing his own, leaving him numb just for a moment.  
“John-“, he mumbled and tried to back off a little, although he didn’t want to. But on the other hand he knew that John always tried to keep their relationship as secret as possible and that he wouldn’t appreciate this kind of behavior once he was sober.  
But nevertheless he felt two arms around his hips, beneath his coat and felt, how John leaned his forehead to his chest.  
“’s cold.”, he whispered.  
“John, please, come on.”  
“Your heart beats so fast.”, he went on like he didn’t heard him, tapping his fingers to the indeed quick rhythm of his heart. Sherlock smiled quietly as he pulled his coat to cover his Doctor a little. Maybe they could stay, just for a moment.  
But after a few minutes he felt that heavy cold and he persuaded John to take the last couple of meters.  
Finally they arrived and in a quite complicated act he managed to haul him up the stairs and as they stood in the living room he had nothing to do but to take off all his clothes beside his pants and hustle him into their bed.  
“Now were here. You still love me?”  
Sherlock couldn’t resist a smile and kissed John softly. “Certainly, like always.”  
Then he went back into the living room, undressing from this terrible costume.

John woke up the next morning. Ish. It was rather afternoon.  
As he joined Sherlock in the kitchen, carefully and his eyes a little squinted, the younger one had to suppress a smile.  
John sat down, watching Sherlock, who gave him a cup of tea.  
“Well, how angry are you?”, he asked quietly and sleepy the good-humoured Consulting Detective, who put down his newspapers in front of John, kissed him quickly, saying: “Oh, not at all.”, and left the room.  
John in between glanced at the papers and blushed, it was suddenly damn hot in this room and he felt absolutely awake. There was a picture of them, cuddling two streets away from Baker Street. His face was hidden but Sherlock looked resigned but lovingly down to him.  
The capture said: “Reichenbach-Pirate being on the prowl.”


End file.
